Figuring it Out, But Not Really
by Lord Arcaan The Arcane of Meme
Summary: Laughayyyette's Fanfiction Debut! Join him for 100(ish) days worth of writing about the OC he's had for years! It'll be fun, he promises! Warning:No refunds will be given, as this is free. So don't ask. Rated 'T' for later. More than likely will be K , however.
1. Foreword

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! Laugh here! With an actual fanfic! Wow! I don't own Ace Attorney, but I do own the OC I'm using for this 100 day challenge! I've decided that if I can roleplay, I can write! So, for the next 100(ish) days, I'll be writing one-shots to add to this collection!

Details about my OC before we head in: His name is Anthony, and he's a Detective trying to start an acting career. He's a bit of a charmer, and tends to love making jokes. He's a bit of a flirt without realizing, but he never gets anywhere with affairs of love.

 **Note: Ships mentioned are Pheonix/Maya, Apollo/Juniper, and Anthony/Everyone not listed before.**

 **Without Further Ado, I present...**

 **"Figuring it Out, But Not Really."**


	2. Dance

**Heyo guys, it's Laugh, ready to get started!**

 **So here's Day 1: 'Dance'**

As a kid, Anthony danced a lot. It was just him throwing himself around, sure, but if you ask him, he was the next Micheal Jackson. But, growing up in a mixed ethnicity community, he was the brunt of plenty of 'white people can't dance' jokes. Maybe it just racked up insecurity deep down inside, to where, now, at age 27, the sheer thought of dancing mortifies him to his core.

"Do you dance?"

The words lingered in the air, before being interrupted by a loud crunch. As her hand drifted back in the bag, his mind cleared.

"Why do you ask?" He asked, sweat beading up on his forehead in worry.

She chuckled, and shrugged as she crunched again, and spoke through the crunch. "Mm-I don't know. You just always seemed like that kinda guy." She replied, leaning on the table.

Anthony shook his head, fiery curls waving ferociously. "No. No, no, no. I don't dance. I'm all left feet." He shot out, trying to swat the thread of conversation.

But, of course, he's dealing with Ema. She wasn't gonna let it go that easily.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Everyone can dance."

"Not me."

"Sure ya can. All it is is just moving your feet in a pattern."

"Well, I guess, but..."

"But what?

"Nothing, nothing." He said, shrugging in an attempt to deflect the question. But even Payne could've seen through that.

At this rate, Ema set down her bag of Snackoos and stared him straight in the eye, buffing out her right cheek. "What is it, Anthony?"

He waved his hand. "I haven't danced since I was a kid. I mean, I can, but I don't." He said, shrugging again. "Now, can we talk about something else?"

A silence lingered in the room, so poignant you could almost smell the tension.

All of it broke so suddenly.

"I wanna see you dance."

Her request would seem simple, if it wasn't so utterly terrifying to him.

"But why?" He asked, trying to find a way to defuse the situation and get him out of this.

"Because you can." She said. " I'll dance with you, if it'd make you feel better."

An inappropriate time to flirt? Oh, yes indeed.

"Well, most guys wouldn't turn down the chance to dance with a pretty lady, but I'm not a dancer, Ema."

"Doesn't matter, Anthony. Dance.

"Ema-"

"Shut up and dance, Anthony."

He stood up, and shuffled his feet in a circle. "That good?" He asked, ready to sit down.

She then stood up, and dragged him to the middle of the kitchen, with an empty space. Other cops and detectives looked up and gathered around, watching the two stand hardly two feet away from each other.

Ema, still holding his hands, then took a step back, and to the side, with Anthony mimicking her motions. He stepped with here, then slightly guiding the dance, leading her along in a bit of a swing dance. His heart soared as he danced, and he smiled widely, how free he felt.

As the onlooking cops clapped and cheered them on, he snapped back to reality, and broke off, shuffling away shyly. Ema seemed a bit disappointed, but still smirked, and grabbed her phone back from one of the other officers, looking at the video of him dancing.

He nodded his head, and walked off quickly.

God, he wished he didn't have to do that again.


	3. Flexible

**Day 2: 'Flexible'**

"To work as both a detective and an actor, you need to be flexible. _I,_ for one, am very flexible."

"Yeah, sure you are, pal."

"Why so sarcastic? I'm being serious."

"Because I remember that time you were in the play across town, right as those 4 homicide cases opened? You were a frantic mess, pal!"

Anthony's head hanged. Gumshoe was right. That was a good example of how he needed to be flexible too.

He was a frantic mess, the curls in his hair a Gordian knot and his face a dragging mess, arms full of files and a cup of coffee as he rushed back to his desk, sifting through the files and the gathered evidence. He rubbed his eyes, dark with bags hanging underneath. He knew he had to rush out soon, but he didn't. He kept paging through files, blabbering into the phone about details he found at the crime scene. As he glanced at his watch, he screamed in horror, forcing most of the officers around him to jump or snap to attention, as he threw himself up and started running, becoming a shambling pile of trash as he quickly hobbled his way to the office door, Gumshoe watching on in slight worry and amusement. He chuckled, and called out to Anthony as he got close to the door.

"Pal? Ya know your car broke down after I went to get your coffee, right?"

This groan was supernaturally loud and dead-sounding, and Anthony seemed even more of a mess now.

"I'm screwed! My goose is cooked! I'm finished! My requiem will be my opus! My success was just a red herring!"

"Why don't I drive you? We can take the squad car so we skip traffic." Gumshoe suggested, smirking at the wreck formerly known as Anthony. Anthony nodded so enthusiastically he might've snapped his neck if he had gone any further.

As they sat in the car, Gumshoe looked at the distraught Anthony, and chuckled.

"If you're gonna do the whole two career thing, you gotta be flexible, alright? If you've got a show, I can take a couple of cases for ya, pal." He offered, nudging Anthony. "Cause I support ya. Lofty dreams, and you're doin' public service at the same time. It's ambitious. And it's good. I've seen you on break when you do those poetry things and you get up and read Shakespeare. You've got that talent. Skill. The emotion for acting. You're a natural, pal."

Anthony nodded his head quietly in gratitude.

"Thanks, Dick. You're a great friend."

The rest of the ride was silent.


End file.
